Sherlock's Angel
by allisondasher
Summary: Sherlock goes about unravelling Joan's secret past as one of Charlie's Angels
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE:**

Joan Alexandra Munday- or Alex, as she liked to have people call her, because she'd always thought Joan was such an old fashioned name, had always considered herself to be a sophisticated class act. She'd always had an advantage in life, she supposed, with her rich father and step-mother, both professors of philosophy and economics at Harvard, but Alex had forged her on way in the world, academically eclipsing both her parents by thirteen.

She'd then spent her teenage years abroad, learning a variety of skills, such as levitation with a Tibetan guru; safecracking and bomb defusing with a Parisian double agent; dancing for a time with the Stuttgart Ballet- the usual classical education, of course.

From seventeen years od age, Alex had been a government aerospace engineer and an on-call consultant for NASA, as well as an expert gymnast, horsewoman and fencer.

Being so accomplished, so on top of everything, it was, however, easy to bore her, and hard to keep her amused.

Being one of Charles Townsend's "Angels" had kept her interest, and her time being an Angel had been the best of her life. Dylan Sanders and Natalie Cook- now Komisky, were her best friends. With your life literally hanging in each other's hands at times, it was impossible not to forge a bond that was nearly unbreakable.

When her father was accidentally killed during a routine heart biopsy, Alex decided to retire, along with Natalie, and assume a future outside of spying. It was her father's death that prompted her to go to medical school, and a desire normalcy that had her change her name to her biological mother's new surname- Watson.

Natalie 'retired', Alex had decided she needed a future outside of spying. That's when she decided to go to medical school. To build a fresh start, she moved to New York, where her biological mother's family lived, including Mary's new husband 'Daniel Watson'.

That's how 'Joan Watson', valedictorian graduate of Harvard Medical School, came to be. And the death of one of her patients was what had her come undone.

Alex was horrified by the idea she'd become what she'd hated- a surgeon who'd torn a family apart. She'd decided, basically the moment she heard the patient flat line, that she couldn't be a surgeon anymore. So she'd let her medical license run out, and started looking for a new career.

Choosing to be a sober companion was, she could admit, a way of serving penance. It was something she felt passionately about, but not the sort of job she'd really enjoyed. That's what made her accept Sherlock's offer to become a 'consulting detective' with him. After all, 'consulting detective' wasn't that far away from 'private investigator' and it had been as a private investigator that Alex had been happiest.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER ONE: A GIANT GUN FILLED WITH DRUGS**

Alex stared at the DEA agent in front of her, holding the gun to her and Rhys. She wondered if she should act afraid, but she was too angry to. Who she was more angry at, she couldn't decide- Rhys, for being a drug-dealing scumbag, the DEA agent for being a traitorous scumbag, or Sherlock for being… well, Sherlock.

Honestly, he really did have a keen mind when it came to crime and investigating, but after all this time, he still hadn't picked up on her past. Which was how she'd prefer it. Which was why she was angry at him, because she knew he had the capabilities of finding out she was a lot more capable then he assumed when she beat the scumbag- the traitorous one- up.

Traitorous scumbag opened his mouth, probably to order her and Rhys around, tell them to tie themselves up, or some shit. The idiot thought he could one-up her. How very naïve of him.

There was no uncertainty, no indecision, to fighting. Not like the rest of her life. As she spun into action, Alex was pure adrenaline. She reveled in her calling, her true calling. Her body hot, blood coursing with victory, she threw the gun's magazine away, having easily disarmed the traitorous scumbag, and proceeded to clip him nearly on the side of his temple, a pressure point, and watched him fall to the ground.

No uncertainty.

She really wished the rest of her life was like that.

"You disarmed and neutralized a trained DEA officer."

"Yes, Sherlock, I'm fine, thanks for asking." She said, sarcastically. The chair down at the station was uncomfortable, the linoleum-like cover starting to tear, revealing the flattened stuffing inside.

"How?" Sherlock asked.

"You're the detective, you tell me." She countered.

"You do hear stories of mothers lifting cars of children and what not, the whole heat of the moment poppycock," Sherlock said, "but I don't believe that. Especially not here. You knew what to do. You knew how to handle the gun and you knew where to hit to knock him out."

"I could be good with guns," Alex pointed out, "you've never actually asked me. And I did go to medical school, I'm fully aware of where pressure points are located."

"But that's a lie," Sherlock countered, "You've had martial arts training."

"So?" She arched a brow.

"So, you never told me!" Sherlock said, and Alex bit back a smile, because he looked like he was about to start pouting.

"And you've told me everything about your life?" She asked.

"You're hiding something- about your past! And I'm going to find out!" Sherlock said, determinedly. Alex rolled her eyes and stood up.

"You do that, Sherlock." She said, "but do it later. We've got a kidnap victim to rescue."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER TWO: DETAILS**

"You're an investigator again?" Dylan asked, and Alex could almost hear her grin over the phone.

Dylan still worked with Charlie, though not as an Angel anymore, now more as a special consultant. Not unlike Sherlock, Alex thought, with a small smile.

"What's that smile for?" Dylan asked, "ooh, is it a _boy_?"

"I'm not smiling," Alex lied, and Dylan scoffed.

"We're Angels, Alex. That means we're detectives. I know you're smiling."

"Fine, I'm smiling," grumbled Alex, "happy?"

"Yes- now you have to tell me who the guy is," Dylan ordered.

"It's not like that," Alex groaned, "Sherlock's a friend. An interesting one. He'd have made a good Angel."

"Except for the part where he's a guy." Pointed out Dylan.

"And the fact the only real defensive training he has is single-stick."

"Single-what?" Dylan asked.

"Single-stick. It's sort of like fencing, except you can only hit the pate and- oh, never mind." Dylan laughed.

"Sounds like you've got your hands full!"

"That's the biz, sweetheart." Alex grinned.

"And you're smiling again," Dylan said. Alex just grinned harder.

"I'm about to go in, talk to you later?" she said.

"Definitely. You take care, Alex."

"I promise. You too, Dyl."

Slipping her phone back into her jacket pocket, Alex used her key to enter the brownstone. She went to flick on the light, only to find the light bulb was out in the foyer. Frowning, she called out, "Sherlock?"

"I'll let you live if you tell me where Holmes is." A voice, altered by a voice changing machine, declared from behind her. Alex didn't hesitate, flipping away as the owner of the machine-altered voice lunged forwards, bringing up her foot to kick her attacker in the solar-plex as she landed.

The figure started gasping for breath, falling back grabbing his throat. Alex stood over him, holding her arms in the ready position, and jabbed her heel into his throat. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"W-Watson!" croaked the invader, and Alex felt her eyes widen.

"Sherlock?" she asked, in disbelief, removing her foot from his throat. Sherlock pushed himself into a sitting position and massaged his throat, gingerly. "What's your damage?" she demanded, hands moving from the ready position to her hips.

"Besides my throat?" Sherlock asked, and she glared at him. "You were held recently at gunpoint by a criminal who infiltrated the brownstone when I wasn't here," Sherlock said, seeming to get the fact she wasn't playing, "I thought an exercise in self-defense was warranted, as I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. It turns out, though, that my worries were… unfounded."

"You bet your ass they were," Alex said, turning to march up the stairs, still pissed at him. She could have really hurt him!

"I will find out what you're hiding!" Sherlock called after her, and she gave him the same reply she did at the station.

"You do that, Sherlock."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER THREE: POSSIBILITY TWO**

"Seriously, Sherlock?" Alex asked, exasperated. "You thought I wouldn't figure out the Laundromat was a front?"

"Well, I did think I'd have to send you back a few more times," admitted Sherlock. Alex sighed and rolled her eyes, crossing the living room to dump his pile of sweaters in front of him.

"New rule," she said, "you want me to drop off the dry cleaning? You clean the fridge once a week."

"I dug into your background," Sherlock said, and Alex turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Did you know Joan Watson didn't exist until fifteen years ago?" Sherlock asked.

"Mm, didn't she?" Alex asked.

"No, she didn't. But Mary Watson did have a daughter before she married Daniel Watson- and a previous husband. That daughter's name was Joan Munday. Do you still prefer being called Alex?"

"Joan's grown on me," Alex shrugged. Sherlock blinked.

"You're really not upset that I figured you out?" he asked, confused.

"Figured what out? All you know is that fifteen years ago I changed my surname to my mother's."

"After your father died on an operating table. Coincidentally- or not, in my opinion, you started medical school within the next month." Sherlock nodded, "I'm curious though- why change your name? Alex Munday had many accomplishments to her name. I admit, I always deduced you were intelligent, but I never realized just how much."

"You should play your little hobby with me," Alex said, with an amused quirk of her lips, "I am an excellent fencer. It would be amusing to see which of us came out on top." Seeing the cheeky grin that crossed Sherlock's face, she rolled her eyes. "Not like _that_, Sherlock."

"Does NASA still contact you?" Sherlock asked.

"On occasion." Alex said, dismissively.

"Did you ever go up to space?" Sherlock asked, looking oddly hopeful.

"Only once. I didn't care for it." She told him. Sherlock stared at her for a long moment.

"I think there's a lot about Alex Munday I haven't learned yet. Like the true reason you changed your name." He said. "I will find out, you know."

"Like I keep saying, Sherlock," Alex said, "you do that."


End file.
